Angels in Everything
by PiepsiPiper
Summary: He doesn't know if he'll get her back, let alone alive, and that scares him. Caryl. T for language, may bump it up. Title/first chapter based on "Angels in Everything" by Blue October.
1. Angels in Everything

Daryl Dixon had always been one to take the risk, to do something completely radical. He was never an accepted man in society, so why did it matter what people thought or not? He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. For the most part, he just followed his brother as closely as he could because he didn't know anyone else to use as a role model really. He was nothing. He was nobody.

But all that changed after the Turn.

He became somebody. Almost like a leader to Rick's group, the reliable hunter, a source of food and dependence. He was accepted in a way he never knew before. It felt weird, he couldn't describe it... But the first one who had accepted him was Carol Peletier.

He had tried so hard to shut her out. He was tired of losing people and he didn't want her to be the same. He wanted to push her away because she was just some woman abused by her husband with a daughter... And he couldn't even save her daughter. And he knew he was bad for her; bad, bad, bad. He didn't want to corrupt her to this new world because he already was. He didn't want her to get too close because he didn't want her to get hurt. The thought of that, he found, actually terrified him.

Seasons passed though, and with the bustle of the prison, their relationship blossomed, and had since he had rescued her from the tombs. Something new was happening her he wasn't understanding. Something he couldn't comprehend. Butterflies were forming in his stomach every time he saw her. He knew he wasn't familiar in love, acknowledged it silently, but he never wanted to feel like this, like a bashful teenager... What was this?

He became one of the council and his experience made him wise. Everyone looked up to him, to him for the most important decisions, for the final curtain call and it made him nervous. He didn't like the attention. He wasn't used to it. He was not an angel like his vest, he did not fly. And the smiles she gave him made him realize, somehow she was working him out of the cage that trapped him as a person and kept him from being so free.

After he lost her, it was devastating. He wanted to hate Rick, he wanted to kick and scream and bust his knuckles and at the same time he wanted to throw up and fall to his knees because his stomach roiled at the news. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. He didn't even see it coming and he felt like he should have, felt like this was all his fault. He felt lost without her suddenly. He knew her. Better than anyone...

And nobody even asked him what he THOUGHT, which made him pissed as hell.

She was his best friend... Or something more, his head whispered, feeling like he was going completely insane.

He was the one everyone looked to for a final say, and nobody had asked him.

He couldn't help but feel so betrayed.

During his journey, he realized he was an angel but his wings were broken. It was like he had fallen off a building and onto the sidewalk and broken them, shattered them like glass. The fall of the prison made him lose his faith, and being stuck with Beth was no help to his misery, because he just wanted to hope his friends were alive. He didn't know if he would ever see them again... And that scared him.

He didn't know if he would see Carol again, and he thought she was gone. Had even told Rick he didn't know for sure she would survive, because she was strong but he was scared. He was just a little kid going through life trying to turn into a man. He needed her, she made him whole, made him want to push himself to be whole as a person for her, to find himself, to fly, to fly.

She was gone and he wanted to accept it but every time he thought about it it felt like someone had driven a knife through his heart and he still didn't know what he felt, but without his training wheels that were the others, he was beginning to figure out away from the people that sometimes suppressed how he felt. That submissive nature was still lingering from his childhood and it made him cringe.

When she was reunited with him, he couldn't believe his eyes. He hasn't even thought, just ran and jumped and dived and held on tight. Like hell he would ever lose her again, and that's why he followed her when she tried to leave. He could not, would not lose her, he had found that he was falling, that he had taken the plunge without realizing and it was too late because he had fallen so hard. He was so Goddamn head over heels his head spun every time he saw her and he wanted nothing more than to kiss and hold her and make her the one thing he had ever had to call his own...

All this time since he had known her, he had truly been finding himself, and the man he was when they went to Atlanta together was the man she had made him. This man, his true self. And he wanted to be as whole as he could for her by taking the book on treating survivors subjected to childhood abuse and swiping some objects from the pencil can when she was asleep. He had been unfolding like a story in a fairytale and he hadn't known, just like she didn't now, and he knew she was lost like he had been once but he knew this was her, this was Carol. His Carol. He would help her through, keep her in line as they did to each other so many times.

When she was hit, his heart stopped with her body falling to the pavement. He wanted to scream and shout and run to her and grab her and make a break for it or defend her. Something, anything, telling himself internally, "Please, God, not again."

Hands held him back and it frustrated him because it was like his whole life, suppressed but this time for good reason. This couldn't be happening, not again, no, no, no. He had finally found his wings, he had finally jumped when they said jump, he had finally caught up with society and become a man and now the woman that was his Eve to his Adam was gone, again.

As he left Atlanta in the rear view mirror, he swore to himself he would make sure he got her out alive unlike Sophia. He swore he would make her better from those three children she lost. He swore this time he would tell the truth and maybe one day give her another child; though the apocalypse was hard, if society was ever to get back on track he had to acknowledge repopulation was still a necessity and not a choice since they never had the time to raid for condoms and birth control and abortion pills, and the walkers would lessen gradually to nothing, for they only lived in one part of the world. He swore he'd make himself better for her and get better from his trauma.

But most of all, a quote from one of his favorite authors rung in his head over and over as he drove:

"Jump, and you will find out how to unfold your wings as you fall."


	2. Frustration

AN: Watch closely for the Sophia parallel!

* * *

><p>He had come back dripping wet, forlorn and upset.<p>

Without her.

Damn it.

DAMN IT!

And now...

He was really fucking pissed off.

And he wanted to be left alone and he wanted to cry, all at the same time.

He had lost her, AGAIN.

For the THIRD TIME.

First, the prison.

Second, Goddammit, Rick.

Third, this. Fucking this, the images still flashing in his head of the car ramming into her...

And he feels that guilt for Sophia that's always plagued him come back to haunt him. And he feels this burning, romantic love for Carol, truly unreal for it was so big and strong he felt it would never die, crush him with sadness and he wanted to scream because she might be dead now and why wasn't he looking for her?

It's in this moment, he loses control and he loses his fucking mind, body, head, soul, what the FUCK ever for the first time since he had been ready to fight Shane about only finding Sophia's doll.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST KEEP AN EYE ON HER?!" he screams to no one, slamming his knife into the table so hard it gets lodged in deep. He kicks the table so hard it topples over and crashes along with the books that just repeat, "THOU SHALT NOT KILL".

He didn't give a fuck what had happened for God's sake, why did he have to lose her again?! WHY?

He couldn't lose her again, he couldn't, **_he couldn't_**!

He wanted her!

He...

He fucking _needed_ her...

Rick and the group all looked up at the sound of his despaired scream of frustration and the loud smashing, excusing it despite the threat of walkers because they knew Daryl, or most of them, well and they knew he hasn't had an outburst quite like that in a very long time. Rick's face became sadness for the man who was like his brother, wanting to try and calm him down, but knowing it was best to let him be. And when he was to go look for his love, Rick would not stop him this time for the greater good of the pack. He had already denied him his older brother, God rest his soul, but for what Carol had done and what Carol meant to Daryl that seemed so unheard of even before the Turn, he would let his brother go in search of something he could not replace and he couldn't live without.

He would let his brother go search for himself.

Because Carol was his everything, above his adopted family he had shown the most sacrifice, grace, and selflessness for her. He knew of their nights spent alone, something he was waiting for them to say before he spoke a word of it.

And he knew Daryl would come back, safe, with her if it cost him an arm and a leg but he'd give that asshole redneck shit-eating grin.

The sorrowful, keening sobs started and the group turned away, even Rick, to the gut-wrenching sound. The strongest love in the apocalypse could not be broken, only breaking the person at the thoughts and fears of losing their other.

And for now, Daryl had lost his.

He didn't know if he would get her back.

Nine lives... Right?

He shook his head and sobbed harder, curling into himself.

_Stay safe,_ he prayed, _Please stay safe..._

AN: Tell me if you guys want me to continue?


	3. Self-Help

"I triumphed in the face of adversity, And became the man I never thought I'd be. And now my biggest challenge, a thing called love, I guess I'm not as tough as I thought I was."

The quote in the self-help book reminded him he had to go get her. He had to rally the group. Realization that he loved her- or rather, just how much he loved her- was hitting him like a sack of bricks. He wanted to be independent, but when it came to her, his knees went weak at the sight of her. The redneck asshole was reduced to a complete blubbering mess on the inside when he saw her. That's just how it was. She could make him melt with just a plea of his name, like she had when he had just about left that stupid kid under the bookshelf for walker bait.

He knew getting her out wasn't even as much of a fight as saying his feelings. He had to get his shit together. This time, there would be no dancing around, no more avoiding how they felt. He would rip his beating heart out for her if that was what it took for him to finally say those three words he had felt since the prison; "I love you."

He was a survivor of many misfortunes. Just like he said, he was tired of people dying. He would never say it out loud but the quote reminded him of himself… Especially now that his wings had unfolded under the touch of pure love and trust. He had never thought anyone could do it, could unravel him so well and make him better himself, but somehow she had.

He was reminded of these adversities as he began to read the book he had taken from her temporary housing; Treating Survivors of Childhood Abuse. Before all this, he never would have thought about touching a self-help book, but here he was… Because of her. He chewed his pencil as he read, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, removing it after a moment and biting his lip. He couldn't stop glancing at the quote about love, chewing at his lip a little before boxing it in with his pencil and highlighting it, putting a bracket near it and scrawling in surprisingly neat handwriting, "Let's start over."

He stared at it for a moment before returning to his reading, carefully analyzing the pages and underlining things that seemed important to look back on, highlighting tips he could use to start healing. He scribbled notes in brackets, making it look neat and tidy, each page thoroughly broken down under his gaze, hoping to absorb every bit.

The more he read the book, the more the misfortunes came back to him. Merle was always in and out of jail and juvie, always getting into trouble after their mother burned to ash. His father beat him with his belt, dug into him with broken glass, reminding him every day still that he was a mistake. The words repeated every time he saw his back, to remind him his father had told him he was a mistake, that their mother hadn't wanted another child after Merle. Merle got beaten badly too, but due to his record of disappearing and reappearing whenever he pleased from being in trouble all the time, that his hardly scarred. In fact, his older brother had been oblivious to his abuse until this hell they now called home.

Still, despite everything, he couldn't help but love his father and his mother, even though they had had bad habits he might never forgive. He was always the sweet one, despite how strong and tough as he pretended to be. The one that had trouble expressing himself for his stunted emotional growth due to the "sheltering" of his older brother. He was just as devastated when his father was taken from him viciously as when his mother was burned away to nothing like she had never existed, and looked the other way with a weak stomach when his uncle had put him out of his misery.

Merle was a completely different story. His brother was a drug addict, but with no one else to turn to, he followed him around like a lost dog. Nothing. Nobody. He had just been a traveler, some redneck asshole, nowhere to call home. His older brother had been a bad influence, held him back, made him feel unworthy, unaccepted. He didn't feel like a part of society, just a third wheel, especially when he first joined the group. An outcast they'd leave for dead. It still hurt him so badly when he had to put his own kin down, though, but he had to remind himself this was a different world.

He wouldn't dare put her down. Not even entertain the thought. He would make sure she stayed…

His thoughts wandered in a loop, recounting all they had lost in his head, among the notable ones Dale, like a fatherly figure to him enough he had done what his uncle had to his father when he was in misery. Doctors were hard to find anymore. Supplies were even worse, and the extent of Dale's injuries had been mortal. He felt responsible for a lot of their deaths, like Beth's second boyfriend. So sick of losing people and letting himself get hurt more and more and having to be okay.

The book helped much more than he thought it would. Hell, it helped a lot. He realized things he hasn't previously been conscious of, reminded himself to take little steps to make it better. He was mending himself. By the time they were reunited, he could be whole for her… And he could fix her. He could support her, for she was so lost and he wanted to be found, completely found, so that he could do the same for her. He told himself she was still alive, that she had to be. She couldn't die just like that…


	4. End

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

Side note: My friend keeps saying she wants Daryl to light Dawn on fire, so... Here you go? Might be a little out of character, but as much as I knew what I wanted to do for this one, I wasn't really certain how to execute it.

Daryl stared down at her form in the hospital bed, biting his lip. He couldn't believe it... She was still alive, but unconscious. And he needed her to wake up. He could hear Rick and the others yelling and firing but he couldn't bring himself to budge. He had to wake her up, he had to tell her how he felt, he had to get her out of here. He gripped her hand, dropping to kneel beside her, hauling the AKM over his shoulder.

"Carol, please, you have to wake up," he whispered after several long moments. "You have to open your eyes, you have to be here with me again. I can't lose you... I'm tired of losing people but I can't handle losing you..." He cursed himself a little, stroking her hand with his thumb, staring at her pale form that now looked small on a hospital bed. Tears came to his eyes until he blinked them away, wondering how many times exactly she had been familiar with a room like this...

"I swear to you, if you wake up, I'll never hide my feelings again. I was a coward. I needed to get my head on straight and I took too long. I'm so sorry... I'm so proud of you," he choked out, "I'm a good man because of you." He stood, gripping her hand tighter, hearing the firing get closer. "Carol, please wake up," he whispered hoarsely, "I need ya. I do."

He shuffled closer, sitting on the empty space, his skin blackened from the pavement scuffle where he had almost been bitten and at the same time strangled to death. "I told you to stay safe... and you said nine lives. Well, prove it to me! WAKE UP!" He frustratedly kicked the monitor, his chin trembling as he fought to keep his composure. "I can't lose you and Merle... You're all I have. You're the reason I've been fighting."

He shook to his very core but turned away as the firing approached. He couldn't leave her. He would have to get out fast, he could only carry one. He had carried her before. He gritted his teeth, shifting the gun, turning around when he heard a familiar but tiny voice. "Daryl..."

His cobalt eyes met her half-open ones and he rushed to her side, whispering, "It's okay, it's okay, we're gonna get you out, I promise, I promise. You're family. We owe you... I love you, Carol." He didn't give her time to process or respond, just picked her up in his arms and headed for the door, shifting her so her head was supported against his chest with tender, loving care. He peered out the door, ducking back when Rick swept forward with a gun, rattling off gunfire, spotting Daryl with Carol and nodding his head, turning it toward the stairs.

Daryl nodded, making sure Rick was covering them before making a break for it, fairly quick despite himself, taking the stairs as quickly as he could without tripping. He sought out the first floor, skidding a bit when he ran for the exit. Walkers, walkers everywhere, attracted to the gunfire. He glanced around desperately, before darting back up the stairs, finding Rick and thrusting Carol into his arms, wrenching the gun from his shoulder. "Get everyone out!" he yelled over the gunfire, "It's being overrun! Hurry!"

Rick looked worried but seemed to know now was not the time, accepting the small woman and waving off the group. Daryl noticed his gaze lingering, hissing, "I'll be right behind you!" He waited for them to flee down the stairs, before ducking a gunshot, taking out his lighter and looking up at Dawn defiantly. "We ain't ashes," he muttered, tossing the open light to the floor and rushing after the group, ducking at the explosion, slamming the door shut and blocking it, winding down to the second floor where he had seen a dumpster down below the glass windows. Not even giving it a second thought, he charged the glass, closing his eyes for the impact, leaping and flying into the air.

He clumsily landed on the dumpster, stumbling a bit, hearing Rick calling to the others and scrambling down after them. There were luckily no walkers in that particular back alley, spotting them and scampering to catch up with the group. When Rick noticed him, he offered Carol to him respectively, and Daryl muttered a thank you, hefting her and allowing Rick to take over, making himself stay in the middle of the group to assure Carol's safety since he didn't really have a hand free.

When they got in one of the huge semi trucks, he had never felt more relieved, settling in the passenger seat and nursing Carol to him, staring at the road a little dazedly until he felt a hand on his cheek. He looked down, meeting her eyes, recognizing love in her eyes, saying everything he needed to know. He gave her a brief peck to the lips, holding her tighter and preparing for the long drive.

Now, he was sure.

There were angels in everything.


End file.
